Through the Void
by unicorn-skydancer08
Summary: When Tumnus is involved in a serious accident that results in a coma, it affects everyone at Cair Paravel, especially Terence and Lucy. They all pray for the faun to recover, but when will he wake up, if ever?
1. Chapter 1

**THROUGH THE VOID**

_Another idea for another Tumnus/Terence story. I noticed that with a lot of my stories, it's usually Terence who suffers the brunt of things. He's usually the one to get knocked out and battered about. Then I wondered what it would be like if the tables were turned, and it was Tumnus who needed Terence's help. That got the wheels in my head turning! _

_Cookies for the nice reviewers, and anyone who flames me gets the boot. A big, old, dirty, smelly fisherman's boot, to be exact. Yeah, I picked that gag up from Spongebob Squarepants. _

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Characters (except Terence) © C.S. Lewis and Disney/Walden Media**

**Terence and Story © unicorn-skydancer08 **

_**All rights reserved. **_

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* * *

CHAPTER 1**

"We really shouldn't be here, Terence," Tumnus said apprehensively. "I don't feel good about this, at all."

"Oh, come on, Tumnus!" chided Terence. "Where's your spirit of adventure?"

"To be frank, Terence, this isn't my idea of 'adventure'."

Terence shook his head, and said again, "Come on, mate—do something brave and daring, for once in your life!"

But brave and daring were the last things Tumnus wanted to be. The faun would much rather be home right now, sitting by the fire in his cozy cave, drinking tea while enjoying a good book. But, instead, he found himself climbing up the wall of a steep, rugged mountain with his best friend Terence, a graceful and exceedingly handsome young man with shining white hair, who was a unicorn in human disguise. It was Terence's idea to scale this big mountain; Tumnus didn't even know why he let Terence talk him into this in the first place.

For that matter, he couldn't understand why he_ always_ allowed himself to be dragged into these precarious situations.

Terence agilely swung himself up onto a narrow ledge. When Tumnus got close enough himself, Terence reached down and grabbed the faun's outstretched hand, and hauled his mate up onto the ledge with him. Tumnus dared to look over his shoulder, to see how far he and Terence had come. When he saw just how high off the ground they were, he immediately became so dizzy that he had to seize onto Terence's front to keep from toppling over. Terence obligingly took hold of Tumnus by his thick red scarf, and pulled the faun away from the edge.

"Careful," the young man cautioned, "that would be a very nasty fall, indeed."

Huddling closer to Terence, clinging fervently to him, Tumnus besought the youth, "Terence, _please, _I am_ begging _you, let's turn back now, while we still have a chance!"

"But we're nearly there, mate," Terence assured him. Looking up towards the peak, he went on, "You see that? We only have about another hundred feet to go, before we reach the top."

"We'll never make it!"

"Nonsense," Terence replied nonchalantly. "You're only saying that because no one has actually made it all the way to the top…and lived to tell about it."

"But it's dangerous!" Tumnus protested.

"I know—that's what makes it so thrilling! Danger's half the fun in an adventure, mate." Terence laid his hand on Tumnus's head and ruffled the faun's thick, blonde-streaked curls in playful affection. "We'll be all right," the young man promised, "I guarantee it." Then he looked down at himself, and asked, somewhat dryly, "Now, would you mind letting go of me, please?"

Tumnus slowly relinquished his grip on Terence, but he made sure to keep extremely close to his companion as they set off once more.

"I declare, Tumnus," Terence told him at length, "I have never met anyone as squirrelly as you, in all my life. Would you just _relax_? Everything is going to be okay."

"Easy for you to say," Tumnus mumbled, as he kept his gaze fixed upon his hooves, making sure he didn't take any tragic missteps.

That was one of the major differences between the two of them. Tumnus was the quiet, thoughtful, reserved, keep-your-distance type, while Terence was more zestful and bold, with an adventurer's streak and a thirst for excitement, and a desire to live life to the very fullest. Terence didn't seem afraid of anyone or anything, from Tumnus's perspective, and he was not afraid to show it. Tumnus had long since lost count of the number of times he advised Terence to be careful, or the number of times he said, "_I don't think this is a very good idea._"

More than half the time, he might as well have preached to the wind.

It wasn't that Terence was deliberately trying to be unruly or rebellious. But he was young, with a strong heart and a free spirit, and he resented anything that restrained him, or got in his way. He was not a tame unicorn, after all; doubtless he was not a tame man, either.

As for Terence, he was very fond of Tumnus, and regarded the faun as a brother—but he wished Tumnus would learn to lighten up, to not be so timid all the time. For heaven's sake, the faun was practically afraid of his own shadow! Terence had to laugh and roll his eyes at the absurdity of it all.

If only Tumnus showed a little more grit, developed a little more backbone, their expeditions would be a whole lot more enjoyable, for the both of them.

The two friends soon reached a chasm in the crags, where it was a considerable distance to the other side. The only way to get across was to jump. Terence, being half-unicorn, with long, nimble legs, had no trouble at all. He simply sprinted ahead of Tumnus, leaped as gracefully as a deer into the air, and he landed perfectly on his feet on the other side. Tumnus, on the contrary, hesitated at the edge. "Let's go, Tumnus!" Terence called over his shoulder. But even as Terence was off again, Tumnus still dawdled for another minute or so.

Tumnus peered tentatively over the edge, and saw it was a long way indeed to the bottom of the gorge. The walls were quite abrupt and uneven, and there were many sharp, jagged rocks. Tumnus could only imagine what it would be like to take a plunge like that. He struggled to gulp down the hard lump that had lodged painfully in his throat. Almost involuntarily, his hands began to twist and wring the end of his crimson muffler. Then, looking up at the jump ahead, he leveled his ears and furrowed his brow in determination.

If Terence could get across there so easily, so could he. "It's no big deal," the faun murmured to himself. "Anybody can make a leap like that. I'll simply have to not look down when I do it…"

Tumnus began to back a few steps, drawing in several long, self-rousing breaths as he did so.

"One," he whispered, "two…_three!_" As soon as "three" had sprung from his lips, he launched into a full-fledged run.

He sucked in one final breath as he neared the edge of the cliff, gathered up all his stride—and jumped.

He experienced but a split moment of sheer terror as he felt himself flying through the air, over the dreaded drop.

Unlike Terence, Tumnus only just barely made it to the other side. When the faun landed, he landed so close to the rim that part of the shelf actually began to crumble beneath his weight.

Tumnus could feel himself swaying and teetering precariously. He immediately began flailing his arms about wildly, trying to preserve his balance. At the sound of the faun's anxious cries, Terence stopped and turned back. Upon sight of his mate and the hazardous position he was in, Terence's eyes widened in genuine alarm, and he gasped out loud.

"Tumnus!" he said urgently, as he promptly bolted toward him.

But before he had quite reached the faun, Tumnus ended up toppling off the edge altogether—and was gone.

"_TUMNUS!_" Terence shouted with all his heart and soul, as he watched his mate fall.

All Tumnus could do was scream his lungs out as he plummeted through the air like a brick…and then his dreadful screams were cut short when he hit the rocks, and tumbled and somersaulted the rest of the way down the precipice, the unfriendly rocks giving him a very sound battering.

Terence, who'd dropped to his hands and knees on the edge, shut his eyes tightly and hid them briefly in his hand.

When he finally dared to withdraw his hand and open his eyes again, he could just barely make out Tumnus's prone, lifeless form at the bottom of the bluff. Terence felt his whole body go entirely numb with shock at what he was seeing, what he had just seen. Waves of devastating grief swelled within his heart, even as ice-cold horror chilled his stomach.

"_Tumnus!_" he wailed a third time, the name ripping from his throat like a sob.

And the whole mountain rang with an eerie chorus of: "_Tumnus…Tumnus…Tumnus…_"

* * *

Terence hurried down the mountainside as fast as he could. He slid and skidded on the steep slope, sending out a fine shower of rocks and dirt, his heart lodged in his mouth the whole time. He could only imagine Tumnus's state, when he found him. It took forever, but when Terence at long last made it to the bottom himself, and stood on more level ground, he began searching the area desperately for Tumnus's body. _Dear heaven above, _the young man prayed feverishly, _don't let Tumnus be dead. Oh, please, _please_ don't let him be dead! _

If Tumnus was dead, if any irrevocable harm had come to the faun…Terence was at a loss of what he would do. The thought was too ghastly to even consider, and Terence's whole being rebelled against it. Tumnus had to be all right, he just _had_ to be! Although, if anyone could survive a fall like that, it would be a miracle…

It didn't take very long to track Tumnus down. When Terence finally found him, he never hesitated to rush to his side.

Tumnus remained exactly where he had come to rest, never moving, never making a sound. He didn't even groan. He just lay there, sprawled flat on his front, his arms stretched out in front of him, his face driven into the dirt. Miraculously, his jaunty red scarf still encircled his shoulders. Terence saw that the naked skin on the faun's upper half was seriously bruised, scratched, welted, and bleeding, but not too badly. Beyond that, nothing appeared to be broken, or twisted unnaturally. That was one mercy, at the very least.

"Tumnus?" said Terence tentatively, as he stood over his beloved mate. "Tumnus? Can you hear me, mate?"

Tumnus did not answer. Terence slowly knelt at Tumnus's side, and dared to lay a hand on his bare, battered back. Tumnus did not recoil, or react in any way, but his skin was warm to the touch—much warmer than Terence expected. This was another hopeful sign, and Terence dared to breathe just a little more freely.

"Tumnus?" he repeated solicitously. "Tumnus, are you okay? Are you all right? Say something, mate. Talk to me…please."

But Tumnus would not speak, and he still wouldn't move. Terence shook him a number of times and called his name repeatedly, yet the faun didn't do anything.

Ultimately, Terence gently but resolutely grabbed hold of Tumnus's shoulders and turned the faun over, so that he could see his face. The youth took care to support his companion's head and neck with his arm. Tumnus's eyes were revealed to be closed; he may have very well been simply sleeping, were it not for the appalling bruise under his eye, the dozen or so scratches that scored his cheeks and forehead, and the ribbon of blood that streaked one side of his face. Terence gingerly touched one side of Tumnus's throat, and was glad that he could still feel a pulse. The slight rise and fall of Tumnus's chest indicated he was still breathing, too, if somewhat erratically. _Oh, thank God, he's still alive, _Terence thought as he let out his breath in a tremulous sigh, while tears welled in his bright sapphire eyes, and just a little more feeling returned to his arms and legs.

But, why wouldn't the faun wake up?

"Tumnus," Terence said yet again, giving Tumnus's face a gentle slap. "Tumnus, wake up. Come on, mate, wake up! Oh, please, wake up!"

Tumnus would not wake. He only lay there in Terence's arms, as limp and lifeless as a sodden rag.

Terence lightly stroked his friend's face with his free hand, willing him to react, knowing how much Tumnus hated to be tickled; but Tumnus didn't even flinch. When Terence lifted the faun's hand, it just dropped heavily to the ground again. The tears that had sprung up within Terence's eyes now began to overflow, and spill like clouds spilling rain. They streamed warmly and steadily down Terence's face, some of them landing directly on Tumnus's own face. Even then, the faun was not roused, and continued to lay as still as death.

"Oh, Tumnus," Terence whispered, his voice and heart cracking simultaneously. "Tumnus…please…"

Even if Tumnus was alive, something must be very wrong with him, if he was not moving or making any form of response.

He would never leave Terence in the lurch like this.

"_Tumnus,_" Terence groaned one last time, while in his heart, he lamented, _What have I done? _

This was all his fault, the white-haired youth knew. If it hadn't been for him, if he hadn't so foolishly dragged Tumnus into this, they wouldn't be in this situation.

Oh, how Terence wished he had listened to Tumnus, right from the start!

Tumnus had told him and _told_ him, _repeatedly_, that this was a bad idea…and he all but brushed off the faun's words of warning. How Terence regretted his flippant attitude.

He regretted it, as he regretted few other things in his life. How could he have been so _stupid?_ His carelessness just about cost Tumnus his very life.

The guilt that flooded Terence's whole being at this awareness was beyond description. It burned like a fire within him; it crawled over his very skin like live snakes; it enveloped him like water, clogging his throat and nearly suffocating him on the spot. The flow of tears running down Terence's face thickened, and the young man leaned down and embraced his friend gently, whispering contritely into his ear, "I'm sorry, mate. I'm so sorry." It was a grievous understatement, and incredibly trite, but those were the only words Terence could find to say.

Whether or not Tumnus heard him, he didn't know, for the faun made no sign of it.

Terence knew he had to get his friend to Castle Cair Paravel at once, to Lucy, Susan, Edmund, and Peter, and all the others. They would know what to do. But it was a long walk from here to the Cair, and Tumnus was in no condition to walk. Terence would have to carry him all the way himself. It would not be a simple task, considering Tumnus's size and weight, but Terence knew he had no other alternative. This was the least he could do for his poor friend anyway, considering what he'd put him through…the absolute least.

So, after just a bit of struggling, Terence managed to lift Tumnus up completely into his arms, and get to his feet.

He grunted a little with the effort; this would have been so much easier if he were in his unicorn shape. He would have been able to carry Tumnus with no problem. Tumnus's arms and legs hung like limp noodles as Terence bore him up, while his head lolled pathetically to one side. "It's all right," Terence told him, "I've got you, Tumnus. I'm never going to let you go."

Thus, the long, lonely journey to Cair Paravel began.


	2. Chapter 2

**THROUGH THE VOID**

_Thus, we move on to chapter 2! This chapter proved to be a little trickier to write than I'd thought, but I somehow pulled it off. _

_Just so you're aware, this is a pretty emotionally messy chapter. You'll see what I mean as you proceed. Read and review, and save your flames for your fireplace for the winter. _

_On a side note, for those of you who are American citizens, happy Thanksgiving! _

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Characters (except Terence) © C.S. Lewis and Disney/Walden Media  
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**Terence and Story © unicorn-skydancer08 **

_**All rights reserved. **_

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CHAPTER 2**

"Where could they have gone?" Lucy asked her siblings, as she paced the floor like a caged cat, wringing her hands like a pair of wet sponges, her freckled face as pale as paste.

"Don't worry, Lucy," said Edmund gently, in his best attempt to soothe her. "I am sure Terence and Tumnus are all right."

"But they should have been back _hours _ago!" the girl protested.

"Just calm down, Lu," Peter reassured his youngest sister. "There is no need to get hysterical."

"Perhaps Tumnus and Terence simply got held up, somehow," Susan suggested. "Knowing them, Lucy, they'll likely be back before you know it."

Oreius, the centaur who was second-in-command over Peter's army, who accompanied Narnia's four young lords and ladies in that room at that time, closed his eyes and silently bowed his head to his chest. Though he wouldn't admit it aloud, he too was worried sick about Terence and Tumnus…especially Tumnus.

The centaur was particularly close-knit with the young faun, mostly because he used to be the very best of friends with Tumnus's father, before Tumnus's father died. And, in some ways, Oreius had come to think of Tumnus as his own. The centaur had no children of his own flesh and blood, not even a mate to call his own. Contrary to what his heart said, he would tell everyone he was in no condition to settle down and raise a family. But Tumnus was, undoubtedly, the son Oreius always secretly longed for.

Therefore, Oreius was constantly keeping a close eye on Tumnus, making sure the faun wasn't hurt, or harmed in any way.

If anything happened to Tumnus, Oreius didn't know what he would do.

He had already suffered one terrible loss; he didn't think he could go through it a second time.

Presently, Sir Giles Fox came rushing into the room, looking extremely anxious about some matter.

Lucy didn't see him at first, and almost tripped right over him. "Oh!" she gasped, when she was fully aware of his presence. "Sir Giles—excuse me! I—I didn't realize you were there."

"My apologies, Queen Lucy," the fox replied, bowing his head meekly. "I should have been watching where I was going."

"What's up, Sir Giles?" Edmund asked conversationally.

"What's the news?" Peter queried.

"Bad news, I'm afraid, Sire," said Sir Giles ruefully.

This caught everyone's attention immediately, including Oreius's, and the centaur raised his head with a jolt. "What? What happened?" Peter demanded.

"It concerns Terence and Tumnus, Your Majesty. Just now, I discovered Terence bringing Tumnus to the Cair. I don't know what's happened, but it looks like there's been some kind of accident."

"Terence?" Edmund echoed.

"Tumnus?" said Oreius disbelievingly, speaking for the first time.

"An accident?" Susan gasped, her blue-gray eyes wide as saucers.

Lucy said not a word, but whirled and bolted out of the room as if the place were on fire. "Lucy, wait!" Peter called, as he hurried after his sister. "Not so fast!" One by one, Edmund, Susan, Sir Giles, and even Oreius followed. Oreius, contrary to his calm, composed manner, took off at a swift canter, his hooves making quite a racket against the marble floor.

He soon surpassed his young lords, even Lucy, and was the first to meet up with Terence outside the castle as the white-haired man wearily hauled Tumnus along.

Tumnus still had not woken, even after all that time, and only continued to lie limp and lifeless in Terence's arms. Terence, having borne the battered faun all the way down the mountain and all the way to the Cair, hadn't the strength to take one step further. He stopped and sank to the ground, bringing Tumnus with him, just as Oreius came galloping up.

"Terence!" said Oreius urgently, sliding to a sharp halt at the youth's side. "What's happened?"

Before Terence could answer, Lucy appeared at the scene herself, followed by all the others. "_Tumnus!_" Lucy shrieked to high heaven when she saw the faun, bruised and blood-spattered. She made an immediate beeline to her poor, beloved friend and dropped to her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Tumnus!" she wailed, as she bent over him. "_Tumnus!_"

Her anguished cries did nothing to rouse the faun.

His eyes remained closed, his head tilted slightly to one side, his matted honey curls spilling into his face. Lucy burst into a flood of tears on the spot. Terence was shedding tears himself, just as abundantly. When Peter, Susan, and Edmund caught up with their sister and saw the scene for themselves, Susan gasped aloud and put a hand over her mouth, and all the color drained from Edmund's face. Peter froze for but a moment before rushing over himself and hunkering down on one knee next to Lucy.

"Terence—what happened?" he gasped. "What's going on?"

Terence was so worn out from his journey, and so distraught about Tumnus, that he could barely speak.

"Tumnus has been hurt," the young man half-sobbed, his face awash in tears. "He's taken a terrible fall…and now he won't speak or move, or even open his eyes! I did everything I could, but he never once responded! When I could do nothing else, I brought him here, for help. Please, Peter, I beg you to help him!"

Of course, Peter knew he could never turn Terence or Tumnus away, especially in a situation like this.

"We must get him inside the castle, at once," the teenage monarch declared. He looked up at Oreius, who continued to stand over them all. "Oreius, you're the strongest; you take Tumnus."

Oreius was only too glad to oblige. Without hesitation, the big black centaur knelt and, with exceptional care, lifted Tumnus from Terence's arms into his own. Tumnus's head drooped toward his chest like a wilted flower as Oreius cradled him. Oreius briefly brushed his lips against the faun's bloody temple, before carrying him gently into the castle.

Meanwhile, Peter and Edmund helped Terence to his feet, and Lucy let the young man lean on her shoulder for support as they all trailed after Oreius.

* * *

"I don't believe this," said Edmund, shaking his head woefully. "I just don't believe it."

"How on earth did this happen?" Peter asked once more.

They were all gathered together in Tumnus's chambers, standing around Tumnus, watching the faun as he lay listlessly on his bed. Several extra pillows cushioned Tumnus's head, and the heavy burgundy quilt covered his body. Lucy had already fed him several drops of her miraculous fireflower potion; and while the potion cleared up the faun's bruises, cuts, and scrapes in almost no time, somehow Tumnus remained dead to the world. Were it not for the occasional swelling of his chest, and the faint whisper of his breath, they would have been quite convinced that he was truly dead.

"It's all my fault," said Terence repentantly, in response to Peter's question. He bowed his head in abject shame.

Everyone's astonished eyes promptly turned to the young man. "_You_, Terence?" said Susan.

"What are you talking about?" Peter asked incredulously.

"Well, I was in the mood for an adventure. So, I went up Shadow Crest…and I dragged Tumnus along with me. He kept telling me climbing that mountain was a bad idea, but I wouldn't listen—"

"What was that?" Oreius cut in abruptly.

Terence looked up at him somewhat bewilderedly. "What?"

"What did you just say?" the centaur demanded. "Where did you say you and Tumnus went today?"

Terence hesitated for but a second before repeating tremulously, "Shadow Crest, that big mountain just off Narnia's northern border—"

"_Terence!_" Oreius exploded, before Terence could even finish.

Terence and all the others jumped a mile at the unexpected intensity of his voice; even Peter gave quite a jolt.

Only Tumnus remained still, oblivious to the shouting.

"How could you?" Oreius bellowed at the white-haired youth, his countenance livid. "Do you have _any_ idea how dangerous a place that is? To even attempt to mount Shadow Crest is nothing short of suicide!" Lucy and Susan simultaneously recoiled at the tirade, and Terence fearfully backed a few steps from Oreius; he had never seen or heard the centaur so angry.

Oreius's rugged, russet face was a dangerous shade of scarlet, close to purple. His eyes were practically on fire.

"Now, Oreius—" Peter began, in an endeavor to calm him, but Oreius raged on.

"I can't believe you, Terence! What in Aslan's name were you _thinking? _Have you no brains, no common sense? It's foolish enough to take on a hazard like that alone, but to drag Tumnus into it!"

Fresh tears began to slide down Terence's cheeks, as Oreius's harsh words rained on him like blows. "I-I'm sorry, Oreius," he quavered. "I—"

"You irresponsible, imprudent imbecile! What is the matter with you? Are you trying to kill Tumnus?"

"_Oreius!_" Peter hissed furiously, but it was already too late.

A grave silence fell. No one could speak. Terence remained where he was, pale and frozen, his swimming blue eyes stricken. Realizing what he had just said, the color instantly drained from Oreius's face, as though from a spigot. His hot fury vanished as quickly as it had come, to be replaced with shock, disbelief, and deep, raw regret.

"Terence…" he said faintly.

That was when the spell of paralysis broke. With a strangled sob, Terence turned away from them all, and was out the door in two seconds. Both Edmund and Peter called for the young man to come back, but he paid heed to neither of them. Susan started to hurry after him, but Lucy caught her sister by the elbow.

"Let me talk to him, Susan," Lucy whispered. "Let me handle this."

So Susan acquiesced, and allowed Lucy to go on ahead.

When Lucy had disappeared from the room herself, and her concerned voice calling for Terence faded from earshot, it was now Peter's turn to explode. "_Oreius!_" the boy lashed out at the centaur, his own face flushing a brilliant red, his blue eyes narrowed ominously. "How dare you treat Terence that way! How dare you say such a thing to his face! How _dare_ you!"

"It was an accident, Oreius," said Susan emphatically. "An _accident._ Terence would never intentionally bring harm upon Tumnus, and you know it."

"You owe Terence a big-time apology for this," Edmund added very sternly. "And I mean _big_-time!"

Oreius knew they were right, and guilt slashed through his body like a two-edged sword. The centaur didn't even know why he gave voice to such words in the first place; somehow, they had simply sprung up out of him, as if of their own accord. Oreius was never very successful at bridling his temper, and this time he had gone too far. In his mind's eye, he could still see the look of pure agony on Terence's face, as clear and sharp as anything. If Oreius lived to be a thousand, he knew he would never forget that look.

"Forgive me," he said contritely, speaking mainly to Peter. "I never truly meant it, the way it sounded. I…I lost control of myself, somehow."

Peter lifted a foreboding finger to him, and told him in his severest tone, "Well, the very moment you see Terence again—which I hope, for your sake, will be very soon, today if possible—you had better take back what you said and apologize to him. If you don't, so help me, Oreius, I will make your every waking moment a living hell. Do you hear me?"

One look into his face told Oreius the boy was not joking about this in the slightest.

It was Oreius's turn this time to draw back in fear and trepidation; though he was so much bigger and stronger than Peter, he could easily see the High King had a temper to match his own.

"Yes, sir," were the only words the man-horse could find to say.

* * *

Terence ran blindly through the corridors of the castle, his mind and heart racing a mile a second, hardly able to breathe due to his wretched sobs and the oppressive weight that pressed down on his chest. Ultimately, he found himself at his own chambers. He practically crashed through the doors, and staggered into the room. He made a beeline to his own four-poster bed, and hurled himself with full force onto the soft mattress. There, he let loose with the tears, covering his face with one of the pillows. He wept as he seldom wept in his life, the sobs racking his whole body, nearly gagging him. In no time, his pillow was soaked, but he didn't care. All the youth could do was lie there, letting his pain and guilt flow with his tears.

While he knew it was his fault that Tumnus had been hurt, Oreius's words cut deep all the same.

What would happen, now? What if Tumnus never woke up? What if he could never speak to Terence again, or to anyone again? What if Terence could never hug him again?

What would he do without his best mate, his brother?

The notion was so horrible that Terence sank his face deeper into his pillow and wept even harder. _Oh, Tumnus,_ his soul agonized. _Oh, Tumnus…Tumnus…_

As the devastated youth remained in that spot, Lucy soon found him. The moment she saw him, she never hesitated to rush to his side.

Placing her hand lightly on his back, she said softly, "Terence?"

At the sound of the girl's voice, Terence almost automatically jerked his head up, making a sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a moan. It twisted Lucy's heart to see her friend so shaken, to see the pure pain emanating from his dripping face. The sight of his tears very nearly brought her to tears herself on the spot.

When Terence recognized Lucy, his face crumbled, and no sooner had Lucy sat down on the edge of the bed and slipped her arms around him than he fell into her lap and started bawling into the skirt of her dress. His arms snaked around her thin waist, and he held onto her as though for dear life.

Lucy sat very still and allowed the youth to cling to her, to cry on her, disregarding the fact that his tears were staining the expensive fabric of her dress.

"I'm sorry, Lucy," Terence choked out, his voice somewhat garbled. "I'm _sorry!_ I—I didn't mean for this to happen—I swear, I didn't—I never wanted to—Oreius—"

"Never mind what Oreius said," Lucy cut in gently. "I am sure he never meant a word of it." With one arm looped around Terence's shoulders, she used her free hand to tenderly rub the nape of his neck, hoping this gesture would help soothe Terence some. She recalled the way Terence would comfort her when she was upset; now, she had the chance to return the favor.

"Tumnus is my best friend, in the whole world," Terence wailed inconsolably. "He's my brother—I could _never _hurt him!"

"Of course, you couldn't, Terence…I know," Lucy said, in her most compassionate tone. "It was an accident." Her hand moved to the back of Terence's head, where her fingers twined in the young man's glossy hair. "It's all right, Terence, it's all right. Calm down. Shhhh, I promise, it's all right…"

But Terence would not be comforted. "Oh, _why _didn't I listen to Tumnus?" he groaned. "If only I heeded his warnings earlier, none of this would have happened—but that's the very trouble with me. When will I _learn?_" At this point, he could not continue; his emotions were too powerful. He tightened his grip on Lucy, and lapsed into further weeping.

At a loss of what more she could do for her friend, Lucy simply held him closer while he cried, gently rocking him back and forth, lulling him like a child.

Though she was only thirteen, she felt her role shift for the time being. For those few fleeting moments, Terence became the child, and she, the adult.

And though he could no longer speak outwardly, Terence inwardly asked himself the same piercing question, over and over again: _What have I done? What have I done?_


	3. Chapter 3

**THROUGH THE VOID**

_Here it is, ladies and gentlemen, the third chapter—and my first written bit of 2010! _

_Whoo-wee, has it been busy already! College classes have resumed, and while I'm doing okay so far, I won't say it's a piece of cake. My writing's been no piece of cake, either. The absolute worst bit is knowing what I want to write, how I want the story to go; but not knowing how to properly transfer it from my imagination to the paper. Ah, well, the quality of the content helps make up for it. _

_I know Oreius was pretty harsh in the last chapter. Well, you'll be glad to know this is where he and Terence make amends, and you see Oreius in a different light. _

_Warning: do not read while listening to a sad song, particularly "Bright Eyes" by Art Garfunkel. If you do, make sure you're not without plenty of tissues. _

**

* * *

Characters (except Terence) © C.S. Lewis and Disney/Walden Media**

**Terence and Story © unicorn-skydancer08 **

_**All rights reserved. **_

**

* * *

CHAPTER 3**

When it finally got to the point where Terence could not cry anymore, when his tears ran dry and his sharp, ragged breathing eased off, Lucy gently lifted the young man's tear-streaked face to hers. "Are you all right?" she asked him mildly. With one hand, she reached into her pocket and pulled forth a clean white handkerchief, the one she and Tumnus usually shared. Now she offered that same handkerchief to Terence, who somewhat reluctantly relinquished his grip on her and rose slowly to a sitting position.

Terence did not answer Lucy's question, only took the sweet-smelling cloth from her with slightly trembling fingers, and pressed it to his eyes. Lucy continued to sit with him, her hand still rubbing his shoulder benevolently. When Terence looked up, he asked huskily, "What will I do, Lucy? How will I get along without Tumnus?"

"Don't worry," Lucy said, "Tumnus will be all right. I am sure he'll wake up soon."

"But what if he doesn't wake up? Your own potion couldn't revive him! If that doesn't work, what will?"

Fingering the little crystal vial secured to her waist, Lucy admitted, "My potion works on most injuries…though not all. There are some wounds and poisons that are beyond healing, and there are some that simply take longer to heal. With Tumnus, perhaps he just needs a little more time to mend."

"But how much time?" Terence feared to ask. "Exactly how long will it take? A day? A week? A month? I don't think I could survive more than one day, Lucy…let alone an entire month."

Lucy shook her head sadly. "I don't know how long it will take, Terence. I'm afraid we'll just have to wait. All we can do now is keep an eye on Tumnus, and hope for the best."

Terence buried his face in his hands. "That should have been me," he moaned into his palms. "_I_ should have been the one to have taken the fall. It would have served me right."

"Then Tumnus would be worried sick about _you_," Lucy pointed out. "_He _would be the one frantic and distraught; _he_ would be the one sitting around, crying and saying, 'That should have been me.' Would you have wanted him that way, Terence? Do you truly think it would be any better if it was you that had been hurt?"

"No," said Terence thickly, fighting to get hold of himself. "But it's still my fault this happened, that Tumnus is…like this." With his hands still pressed to his face, he shook his head woefully from side to side. "If only there were something I could do for my mate. I would do anything to have him back; I would give up everything I have in the world if only he would get well."

"Pray for him," Lucy suggested. "Think good thoughts for him. Sometimes a bit of prayer makes all the difference in the world."

"Oreius is right," Terence continued mournfully, "I have no common sense. I have a head, but I never use it. I have two ears, but I never listen. Now, thanks to my stupidity, I may very well lose the only friend I have. Oreius will never forgive me. I'll never forgive myself." The young man sank his head further into his hands. "He has every right to hate me," Lucy barely heard him say.

Hurt at the insinuation, Lucy slid in a little closer and wrapped him once more in her arms, big as he was. Terence did not pull away or look up, but only drew in a long, shaky breath, though he did not weep again, having no tears left to shed. "Oh, no, Terence," Lucy said softly, "no…of course, Oreius doesn't hate you."

"What else could he think of me? It's true. You saw how he was earlier; I'd never seen anyone so angry."

Right at that time, who should appear beyond the door but Oreius himself?

The big centaur stood still outside the room for a moment, listening with his keen ears to what was being said.

"I'm sure he didn't mean it, Terence," he heard Lucy say gently. "Oreius was…just upset. He's worried about Tumnus, too, you know."

Oreius bowed his head in shame. It was true that he was extremely worried about Tumnus—as worried as everybody else, if not more so. But he knew that gave him no right to lash out at Terence the way he did. The livid words he hurled into Terence's face kept resounding in his ears, as well as in his heart. The centaur couldn't believe he'd had the gall to say such things.

What must Terence think of him? Could the white-haired youth forgive him, for treating him like that? Would he want to?

"Don't judge him too harshly," Lucy continued. "Oreius may seem rough on the outside, but he has a good heart. We all tend to say things we never truly mean when we are in a state."

It melted Oreius's heart to hear the girl speak of him in such a kindly way.

Even after she'd heard him with her own ears and saw his ill treatment of Terence with her own eyes, she spoke no ill of him, in the slightest degree. Truly, Lucy had a heart that was as big as Narnia itself—if not bigger. How blessed they all were, Oreius acknowledged, to have someone like her as their queen.

When Terence finally looked up in the end, he said very quietly, "Lucy? If you don't mind, I wish to be alone, now."

Lucy hated to leave her poor friend like this, but she made no argument.

"Very well," she said with an amiable nod, "I understand. But if you need anything, anything at all, please do not hesitate to tell me."

Just as she was sliding off the bed, Terence seized hold of her hand momentarily. "You'll let me know about Tumnus?" he asked anxiously. "Whatever happens to him, you'll be sure to tell me?"

Lucy nodded again, and promised him, "You shall be the first to know."

She gave Terence one last hug, and even went so far as to kiss the young man's cheek.

Then she quietly made her way out of the room, leaving him in peace. She didn't notice Oreius, as he stood off to the side, where he was not seen nearly so easily. Oreius remained where he was, and watched the girl as she headed down the other end of the corridor. When she'd disappeared around a corner, Oreius stole a peek into Terence's room to find the boy sitting on the outermost edge of his bed, with both feet touching the floor this time, his head resting in his hands once more. He looked so forlorn that Oreius's heart went out to him.

Of course, Terence hadn't meant to hurt Tumnus. Notwithstanding the boy's recklessness, he was not that sort of person. Now Oreius sincerely wished he had kept his mouth shut. Though it was often said that actions were stronger than words, the centaur knew words could inflict just as much damage as anything else. He knew he couldn't take back his cruel words, but he could try to make compensation for them, if Terence was willing enough to accept. Oreius closed his eyes for a minute, drawing in several deep breaths, gathering his strength together.

Finally, with just a slight falter in his step, he quietly sauntered into the room, over to Terence. He was grateful for the thick carpet beneath him, which helped subdue the sound of his hooves. Terence didn't look up as Oreius approached him and stood over him, but only made some faint, indistinguishable sound into his palms.

Oreius hesitated briefly, then dared to reach down and touch his companion's hunched shoulder.

That got Terence's attention.

The poor boy gave such a start that Oreius started himself and abruptly jerked his hand back, but did not shift a step to the left or the right. When Terence recognized Oreius, every muscle in his body tensed up, and he promptly shielded his face, as if fearing the centaur would strike him. Seeing the white-haired youth cower like this was almost more than Oreius could bear.

"Terence," he said, in the mildest tone he could manage. "Terence, don't be afraid."

But that only made Terence shrink further back. Oreius heard him make a sort of whimpering sound, like a frightened kitten.

"It's all right," the man-horse said, trying his absolute best to sound gentle and reassuring. "I mean you no harm."

Terence did not appear convinced. He remained where he was, keeping his head hidden, his whole body trembling like a windblown leaf. Oreius had never seen him act this way before. For that matter, he had never seen anything like this. The youth looked so pathetic, so vulnerable; he looked ready to, quite literally, fall to pieces at any given minute.

"Terence," Oreius persisted, "look at me. Please, look at me."

At last, very slowly, Terence did so, though he kept his distance from the centaur, and his posture was as taut as ever. His agitated face was pasty white, while his eyes glittered like diamonds.

"O-Oreius," he quavered. "Oreius, I…I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…"

"I know you are, Terence," said Oreius softly.

"You've got to believe me," Terence implored, "I-I never wanted this to happen. I never meant to hurt Tumnus, I_ swear_ it—"

"I believe you," Oreius replied, and he meant it with all his heart.

"I love him," Terence went on desolately. "Tumnus means everything in the world to me."

"Yes, I know," said Oreius again. Laying his large hand gently on the young man's shoulder once more, he asked, "May we walk? Just you and I?"

When Terence said nothing, Oreius entreated him, "Please?"

Terence hesitated, recalling the ugly scene in Tumnus's room from before. But when he saw the genuine solemnity in Oreius's face, when the youth was convinced he wasn't going to be strangled or caused any bodily harm, he tentatively agreed. So he rose to his feet, though his legs were shaking so much they could barely hold him up. Oreius accompanied him out of the room, walking very slowly so they remained level with each other. At one point, Terence mustered enough nerve to ask, "Where exactly are we headed?"

"Nowhere special," Oreius answered. "Just…around. Is that all right with you?"

Terence did not dare oppose him, in any way, so he merely nodded in acquiescence.

And so they walked, wordlessly weaving through the halls and vestibules, following the twists and turns they encountered, Oreius's hooves sounding hollowly on the marble floor while Terence's leather boots barely made a sound at all. It was hard for Terence to believe that Oreius was actually here with him, when only an hour ago he'd looked ready to tear Terence apart with his bare hands. What could the centaur want with him, now? Presently, Terence summoned the courage to ask. "What is it you truly want of me, Oreius?"

Here, Oreius drew to a halt, and Terence stopped and stood still as well.

Rather than look at Terence directly, Oreius focused his gaze on his hands, which were clasped uneasily in front of him. Haltingly, he spoke.

"I…I wish to personally apologize…for the way I have acted before."

Of course, there was no need for clarification. Terence knew all too well what his companion was referring to.

Oreius continued humbly, "I should never have torn into you like that, Terence. I should never have said those…those cruel things."

"You were right, though," said Terence miserably, bowing his own head. "And it was nothing I didn't deserve."

"No one deserves to be treated in such a way," Oreius countered, "least of all you." This made Terence look up in mild surprise. Without giving the boy a chance to speak again, Oreius went on, "I know my words have hurt you, and I regret having ever spoken them to begin with. What I've done was tactless, unjust, uncalled-for, and very ill-advised. I never truly meant what I'd said—and if there was some way I could take it all back, I would gladly do it. But I can't, so all I can do now is express my deepest, sorest apologies to you."

He paused to catch his breath, before he finished. "And…if it be at all possible…to…to ask for your forgiveness."

Terence could see this confession was costing Oreius nearly every bit of fortitude in his body. The young man sighed heavily, and hung his head once more. As deeply as Oreius had hurt him, he couldn't very well bear a grudge against the centaur, either. As Lucy had said before, Oreius was also concerned about Tumnus's welfare. Terence couldn't resent that.

In a moment, he felt Oreius's hand slide under his chin, and Oreius made him tilt his head upward, so they were facing each other properly.

"Please, Terence," Oreius petitioned, his brown eyes beseeching him, "will you forgive me? Can you forgive me?"

Terence nodded submissively. "I forgive you, Oreius," he said in a soft, sincere tone, and a look of immense relief spread over Oreius's face.

Oreius sighed, feeling the heavy, painful weight on his heart lessen, to some degree.

"Thank you, Terence," he said fervently.

"What about me?" Terence asked tentatively. "Do…do you…forgive _me?_"

"Of course," Oreius never hesitated to answer. "I know you would never purposely bring harm upon Tumnus. You have been his closest companion for ages; anyone can see how devoted you are to him. And I am truly sorry that I accused you the way I did." The centaur sighed, and shook his head slowly, now looking very sorrowful and troubled. "Truth is," he confessed, "Tumnus means a great deal to me, too. I, too, fear for his safety. I don't know what I would do, if anything happened to him." He closed his eyes and covered them with one hand, but not before Terence caught sight of a film of tears. Even with Oreius's face hidden, Terence could hear him give out a choked sob.

The sight rattled Terence. He had never seen Oreius cry before, or get emotional in any way.

The youth remained frozen in place for a time, before awkwardly placing a hand on Oreius's vambraced forearm.

When Oreius finally took his hand away, revealing his wet eyes, he half-croaked, "He is like a son to me."

It pierced Terence to the center to hear Oreius refer to Tumnus in such a way. He had always known Oreius was fond of Tumnus, but he'd never realized the centaur's feelings for the faun ran this deep. No wonder Oreius had gotten so upset earlier. Terence felt his heart brim with pity, while at the same time his sense of guilt for being the cause of all this worsened.

"I'm sorry, Oreius," he said in a small voice, as his own eyes filled up afresh. "I'm so very sorry."

Oreius said nothing, having temporarily lost the use of his voice. But Terence could see a single tear spill over, and very slowly streak down his rough brown cheek.


	4. Chapter 4

**THROUGH THE VOID**

_Well, that sure didn't take long! This chapter proved easier to write than all the other chapters thus far. I ought to be studying for my geography test, so I__'ll get around to that after I post this. _

_This chapter is a lot shorter, but it will definitely tear your heart out. Listenin__g to __"Please Wake Up" from _Once Upon a Forest _really helped to set the mood. _

**

* * *

Characters (except Terence) © C.S. Lewis and Disney/Walden Media**

**Terence and Story © unicorn-skydancer08 **

_**All rights reserved. **_

**

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**

**CHAPTER 4**

When both Terence and Oreius managed to pull themselves together, Terence wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his tunic before looking up and saying decidedly, "I want to see Tumnus again." Despite Lucy's promise to notify him if Tumnus took a turn one way or the other, Terence couldn't bear to be separated from his mate, even for a moment.

Now that he had reconciled with Oreius, he no longer felt intimidated, that there was anything else holding him back.

Oreius shook his head, not negatively, but only in a very sorrowing manner. "I doubt he has made much progress within the past hour, Terence," the centaur said huskily, "if any."

"I don't care," Terence said. "I need to see him. I need to be with him."

Oreius sighed and closed his eyes, dragging his hand slowly over his face. But when he spoke again, all he said was, "All right."

The centaur was unwilling to stay away from Tumnus himself, so he escorted Terence back to Tumnus's chambers. There, they found Lucy sitting on the edge of the faun's bed, cradling his large, limp hand in hers while she tenderly stroked his brow. Sir Giles was slumped dejectedly on the floor by the foot of the bed, his head bowed so low that his nose nearly brushed his paws. Peter, Susan, and Edmund were still there, too. Peter was leaning sideways against the wall, with his arm propped above his head. Edmund was hunched over on a chair close to the bed, holding his face in his hands. And Susan sat in another chair, opposite of Lucy, looking down at Tumnus with sadness and worry evident in her every feature.

Tumnus continued to lie motionless, silent and pale as death. His eyes remained closed, the subtle rise and fall of his chest and the whisper of his breath the only signs of life in him.

As Terence viewed his poor friend from the doorway, he felt his heart break for him all over again.

Lucy was the first to notice the unicorn youth standing there. "Terence?" she said, surprised to see him back here already.

At the mention of Terence, Peter and Susan simultaneously turned their heads, and Edmund slowly drew his hands away and looked up.

Sir Giles pricked up his ears and raised his head as well.

When Peter saw that Oreius was standing over Terence, he narrowed his eyes.

"Oreius, what are you doing?" he demanded, rather sharply. "Haven't you already caused enough grief for one day?"

"Don't be angry, Peter," said Terence mildly. "It's all right."

"What are you doing here, Terence?" questioned Lucy. "I thought we agreed that I or one of us would keep you informed about Tumnus."

"I know," Terence said, as he slowly stepped forward. "Forgive me, but I couldn't stay away. I—I just couldn't."

"Are you all right?" Susan asked gently. She noticed Terence's eyes were very red, and he looked as pale as Tumnus.

"Only when Tumnus is awake and about, I will be."

Susan offered her seat, but Terence declined, choosing instead to kneel on the floor, next to Tumnus's head. He could hardly take his eyes off Tumnus, though he could hardly bear to see him lying so still. He willed the faun to open his eyes on the spot, to sit up and stretch, then smile at them all and gather them into his arms. Yet Tumnus remained in his corpse-like state.

Absently, Terence brushed his own fingers lightly along the faun's face, tracing his features, as if to see him through touch as much as sight.

The skin felt considerably cooler beneath his fingers, though a trace of warmth still lingered.

"Oh, Tumnus," Terence said, his voice little more than a whisper, "Tumnus…forgive me."

He felt Lucy and Susan's sympathetic touches, but he kept his attention centered solely on his beloved mate.

Would Tumnus ever wake up? Would Terence ever be able to look into those sweet blue eyes of his again? Would he ever hear the faun's charming voice, feel his warm embrace again?

At length, Peter said quietly, his tone somber, "It's getting late. It looks like we'll have to wait until tomorrow morning. Hopefully, we'll know by then whether Tumnus will pull through."

"I'm staying here," said Terence doggedly. "I'm not leaving Tumnus for one minute tonight."

Whether Tumnus lived or died, Terence would be there, and nothing and nobody was going to stop him.

"I'll stay, too," Lucy volunteered.

"And so will I," Oreius spoke up. "I don't expect to get much sleep tonight, anyway."

"Suit yourselves," was all Peter said, and Susan and Edmund agreed.

* * *

The night seemed endless. The candle that lit solemnly on the bedside table burned steadily lower with every passing hour, making the shadows increasingly longer and more distorted.

Lucy slept soundly, curled up like a cat in her chair, while Oreius and Terence stayed awake, asking each other on occasion what time it was, but remaining mostly silent. In time, Oreius ended up drifting off to sleep himself. He slept on the floor, for though he was half-horse, centaurs did not sleep standing up like ordinary horses, as it did not suit their upper bodies.

But Terence, regardless of the hour, and notwithstanding his bone-deep exhaustion, could not bring himself to sleep. He sat very quietly in his own chair, holding Tumnus's hand, running his thumb over the faun's knuckles. At one point, he drew the quilt up further, just to be sure Tumnus was warm enough, and then he adjusted one of the pillows a little. He noticed that a stray brown tendril lay over Tumnus's forehead, so he carefully tucked it back into place, with the rest of Tumnus's hair. Then he bent down to bestow a tremulous kiss on his brow.

"Forgive me," he besought the lifeless faun again, praying his voice could still be heard. "I should have listened to you, Tumnus. I should never have dragged you into this in the first place. What will we do, now? How can I live without you? Come back to us, Tumnus. Don't leave us…don't leave _me_."

He toyed idly with a ringlet of hair, looping it gently around his finger. "Please," he supplicated, "please stay. If you do, I'll be your best friend forever."

Tumnus said nothing. Save for the faint shift of his chest, no part of him moved at all; no eyelid fluttered, not even a finger twitched.

He was like a life-sized doll: normal in appearance, but without the spark of life.

Terence felt his eyes tear up once more.

"Please wake up, Tumnus," he whispered. "You're my brother…and I will always love you."

At that last statement, one of the tears rolled slowly but steadily down his face, making a glittering trail on his skin. It fell all the way off his jaw, and landed on Tumnus's own cheek.

Whether or not Tumnus felt it, it was impossible to tell.

Slowly, very slowly, Terence leaned down one more time, this time to lay his own head on the faun's pillow, so that their faces were close together. In this way, he could hear Tumnus's breathing a little more distinctly. Terence held fervently onto the hope that so long as Tumnus had breath in his body, there was still a chance for him.

Keeping his head down, with his hand curled protectively around Tumnus's hand, Terence closed his eyes, and ultimately slipped away into sleep himself.


	5. Chapter 5

**THROUGH THE VOID**

_Another day, another chapter for my lovely readers! I'm not really doing much else, anyway, and this helped to kill the boredom. Hope you like, and if you're gonna flame me, I bid thee farewell.  
_

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* * *

Characters (except Terence) © C.S. Lewis and Disney/Walden Media**

**Terence and Story © unicorn-skydancer08 **

_**All rights reserved. **_

**

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**

**CHAPTER 5**

Terence slept fitfully all that night. He had many terrible dreams, in which Tumnus disappeared and Terence couldn't find him, nor could he get him back. The last dream involved him and Tumnus going for a swim together, in a broad river that emptied into the sea. Tumnus was saying fearfully, _"I don't think this is a very good idea, Terence." _

To which Terence replied nonchalantly, _"Oh, come on, Tumnus, nothing's going to happen!" _

The next thing he knew, Tumnus had somehow gotten sucked completely under the water; and though Terence dived repeatedly after him, it was to no avail. Then, somehow, Terence found himself kneeling on the bank, with Tumnus's cold, blue, lifeless body cradled in his arms. _"Tumnus!" _Terence wailed to the faun, his voice rent with agony, his face awash in tears. _"Tumnus, no! No—come back to me! Come back! Look at me, speak to me! For the love of heaven, mate, open your eyes and _LIVE!_" _

"Terence!" a voice hollered suddenly. "Terence, wake up!"

With an unpleasant jolt, Terence became aware that he was in Tumnus's room, with Lucy and Oreius surrounding him. The young man had apparently fallen out of his chair, but Oreius's large, strong arms kept him off the floor. Lucy, the one who had been shouting to Terence, asked the young man fearfully, "Are you all right?"

"That must have been a powerful dream you were having," Oreius commented.

Breathing raggedly, Terence only closed his eyes and put a hand to his sweaty face, wiping his forehead.

Then he remembered Tumnus, and the young man immediately struggled to an upright position.

Tumnus remained exactly where he was, well nestled beneath the warm quilt. The early morning sun flooding through the window bathed his face in golden light. But his eyes remained closed, and though he was still breathing in and out, he continued to lie absolutely motionless. "Tumnus?" said Terence expectantly, touching the faun's shoulder. "Tumnus?"

Tumnus didn't move. Terence shook him gently at first, then harder. "Tumnus? Tumnus—it's me, friend. Wake up!"

Nothing happened.

Terence felt his heart sink like a stone. "Oh, no," he groaned.

He had hoped that Tumnus would recover completely by morning. But the faun, in every aspect, looked no different than he had the previous night.

His condition must be more serious than any of them thought.

Terence bowed his head in despair. Lucy sidled up to him and silently took his hand in hers, looking every bit as discouraged. Without a word, Terence pulled the girl closer, and hugged her as if he couldn't bear to let go. Lucy gasped slightly from the sudden pressure, but she made no resistance whatsoever. Terence buried his face in her auburn hair to hide the tears that he couldn't hold back, though there was nothing he could do about his harsh, uncontrolled breathing and the violent tremor of his shoulders. Even then, Lucy didn't pull away.

A few tears had already begun to fall from her own eyes, and she hid her own face in Terence's sleek blue garment, so that the fine material was soon wet and stained.

Terence didn't care in the slightest, only tightened his grip on Lucy and wept freely.

Oreius stood by, at a loss of what to do, or what to say. Part of him wanted to run away, feeling he was encroaching on Terence and Lucy's privacy. Another part of him wanted to embrace them both, and a third part wanted to weep himself. But before he had a chance to make a decision, the centaur noticed, from the corner of his eye, that they had company.

Turning his head slightly, he saw Peter standing at the door. Edmund was right behind him. Oreius could tell from their appearance that neither of them had slept well that night. Peter's blonde-brown hair was considerably tousled, and Edmund's eyes had a shadowy cast to them. When the boys saw Terence and Lucy wrapped in each other's arms, crying together, they feared the worst for just a moment. But when they moved in closer and saw that Tumnus was still breathing, they dared to breathe themselves.

When Terence and Lucy at last became aware of their presence, they simultaneously released their hold on one another and stepped back, Terence brushing unsuccessfully at his streaming eyes. "Are you all right?" Edmund asked them. Immediately, he felt foolish for asking such an idiotic question. Of course, they weren't; anyone with half a brain could see that.

"We're fine," said Lucy, trying to sound braver than she felt.

"What are you doing here?" Terence asked both boys.

"We came to see about Tumnus," said Peter quietly. (Terence knew he would say that.) "How is he this morning?"

Oreius was the one to answer that. "Not much better," the centaur said grimly. "Hardly any change at all, really, as far as we know."

Peter's shoulders sagged in disappointment, and Edmund hung his head.

"I thought he would have been better by now," Edmund murmured dispiritedly. "At any rate, I'd hoped he'd have at least woken up."

"I was hoping for the same thing," said Terence melancholically.

"I don't understand it," Peter said. "Lucy's potion ought to have done the trick."

Lucy felt a twinge of guilt when she heard that, even though she knew perfectly this had nothing to do with her.

A few minutes later, Susan came in. It was apparent from a glance that she didn't get much sleep herself. She hadn't even bothered to put on makeup, and had done essentially nothing with her hair, aside from brushing it a little. The very first words that escaped her tongue when she set foot in the door was, "Has there been any change?"

"None," Terence told her. "Tumnus hasn't moved, or spoken at all. He shows about as much life as a doornail."

Susan's already fallen face fell even further. "Oh, dear…"

With a deep, mournful sigh, Terence closed his eyes and sank his forehead into one hand.

"Let's not lose hope," Oreius said, in an endeavor to console them all. "The important thing is that Tumnus is still living; and, as my father used to say, as long as there is life, there is hope. So we must keep up our spirits. If there is anyone who deserves the right to live, I am convinced Tumnus would be the one. He's the best faun I know."

This speech did very little to diffuse Terence's feelings of heartsickness and guilt, but it did help to ease the young man's worry, and lessen his fear. Lucy, Susan, and Edmund also took heart from the centaur's words, and Edmund managed to raise his head higher. Lucy approached the bed, and whispered tenderly to Tumnus, "We love you, Mr. Tumnus. Please get well soon."

Then she leaned over the faun and kissed his cheek.

Terence swore to heaven that if Tumnus lived, he would listen from that time on to every word that passed from the faun's lips. He would never discard Tumnus's counsel again.

After a time, Peter spoke up tentatively, "Hey…Oreius?"

"What?"

Looking rather uncomfortable, Peter wavered at first, then cleared his throat and managed to say, in a low, husky voice, "I…I just want to say that I'm…I'm sorry about last night."

It was a minute before Oreius realized that Peter was referring to the way he'd slated the centaur, after Oreius tore into Terence.

Peter went on somberly, "I'm sorry I snapped at you. While I didn't approve of the way you treated Terence, it wasn't my place to condemn you. Forgive me?"

Oreius nodded meekly. "Only if you'll forgive _me_, Sire."

They smiled at each other, and Susan, Lucy, and Edmund smiled as well. Even Terence couldn't keep a small smile off his face.

While things hadn't improved for Tumnus, it was good to know they were, at least, on better terms with one another.


	6. Chapter 6

**THROUGH THE VOID**

_Ah, does it feel wonderful to get back to this story, at long last! I'd say we're half-done with this, maybe more than half. It's not looking well for Terence or Tumnus here, and it will only get worse before it even starts to get better. _

_I don't know what I would do if I were involved in this kind of situation. It's surely frustrating, doing nothing when you feel you should do something.  
_

* * *

**Characters (except Terence) © C.S. Lewis and Disney/Walden Media**

**Terence and Story © unicorn-skydancer08 **

_**All rights reserved. **_

* * *

**CHAPTER 6  
**

Throughout the morning, Terence stayed by Tumnus's side every minute. All that time, at least one of his companions stayed with him. Susan would stay with him for a time, then Oreius would take her place, and then Edmund later. Even Peter kept Terence company for a good while. No one had much to say, but it consoled Terence just to have them there, to know they cared. At one point, Sir Giles came into the room. The fox put his front paws on top of Tumnus's bed and rested his nose upon them, but he said nothing, only he looked very sad—sadder than Terence ever remembered seeing him look. He did not object when Terence reached over and gave him a light pat on the head.

As the morning passed into the afternoon, and the afternoon wore on, Tumnus showed no signs of improvement.

He didn't seem to be getting worse, but he was getting no better, either.

Once or twice, the girls tried to convince Terence to eat something, but Terence wouldn't eat. Terence hadn't had anything since the day before, and normally the boy had the appetite of two horses, yet for some reason his desire for food was curbed. He did accept a cup of strong tea from Lucy, however, mostly because Lucy went to all the trouble of putting it together just for him. Lucy had even added an extra pinch of cinnamon for extra flavor.

"Tumnus's favorite," was all Terence said, in a wistful tone, when she told him.

Although Tumnus never moved, they tried to keep the faun's strength up by feeding him a mild broth, courtesy of Mrs. Beaver. Mrs. Beaver claimed this soup could cure anything. At any rate, it looked and smelled good, and it surely tasted good, too. They would feed the pottage to Tumnus very slowly, no more than a few drops at a time, and they would gently tilt Tumnus's head back and caress his throat to help him swallow it. Then they would ladle a little more soup into the spoon and do it again.

By late afternoon, Terence was nearly at the end of his rope. They were doing everything possible for Tumnus, but nothing seemed to be working.

When Lucy came in to check on Tumnus, for what must have been the hundredth time, the first thing Terence said to her was, "Couldn't we give him at least one more drop of your potion, Lucy?"

It took Lucy a moment to understand that he was referring to her fireflower potion.

"I don't know, Terence," the girl said in a troubled voice. "One or two drops really should be enough."

"But maybe one more will do the trick," Terence insisted.

Lucy wasn't so sure. If the potion didn't work the first time, who was to say it would make any difference this time? Still, Terence looked expectant, and Lucy didn't know what more they could do for Tumnus. They'd tried just about everything else.

Besides, it couldn't hurt; after all, the potion was not poison. So the girl yielded.

"All right," she said, reaching for her belt, "we'll give him one more. Hold his head for me, will you please?"

Terence was already seated by Tumnus's head before she even asked. Without hesitation, he lifted the faun's unresisting head from the pillow and placed it very gently into his lap. Lucy drew forth the little crystal bottle and pulled the cork. She edged in closer to Tumnus and, slowly and carefully, poured a solitary drop into his mouth. Terence then tilted Tumnus's chin a little, to make sure it would go down.

Now he and Lucy waited, watching and listening with baited breath, hoping against hope that Tumnus would come to his senses there and then.

But nothing happened. Tumnus didn't move so much as an inch.

Terence and Lucy waited a good five minutes, every fiber of them hoping and praying, and still nothing happened.

When it became clear that Tumnus was not waking up, or going to wake up anytime soon, if at all, all hope melted away, like dew melting in the sun.

Lucy hung her head, looking upset, while Terence just sat with Tumnus and sorrowfully stroked the faun's hair back from his brow. "I'm sorry, Terence," Lucy quavered as new tears brimmed her eyes.

"It's all right," he replied. "It's not your fault."

If anyone was truly to blame, Terence was the one. Even though Oreius had apologized, even though everyone kept insisting it was an accident, Terence was nevertheless the one responsible for this, and he knew it. He should have known better.

Of course, it was too late now. There was nothing anyone could do about what had already been done.

Terence continued to stroke Tumnus's face, twining his fingers in the untamed hair, wishing from the depths of his soul that the faun's eyes would open, that the faun could somehow see for himself how much they all missed him.

It would truly break his heart to lose Tumnus, his best and only friend. Losing Tumnus meant losing family—losing a literal part of himself.

Terence thought back on everything he and Tumnus had been through together over the years. He thought of the things they said and did, of the joy and laughter they had shared, as well as the pain and tears. He remembered how they would share tea and sardines together, how Tumnus would play his special pipe while Terence combined his own beautiful voice with the beautiful tune, how the twosome would talk privately for hours at night while the rest of the castle slept.

So many precious memories…and so many still to make.

_Oh, please, _Terence pleaded inwardly, as he peered down solicitously at Tumnus's face, _don't let it end here. Not like this. _

At length, Terence carefully laid Tumnus's head back on the pillow, before he stood up. "Where are you going?" Lucy asked when she saw the youth walking slowly toward the door.

"I'll be right back, Lucy. I just need a bit of time to myself. Keep an eye on Tumnus, will you?"

Terence was already gone before Lucy could give her answer, but Lucy would have stayed with Tumnus anyway.

Besides, the girl had been wishing for a moment to be alone with Tumnus, with no one else around—no offense to Terence, or Oreius, or her siblings—and now she had such a moment. When it was just her and the faun, she slowly climbed onto the bed herself. Tumnus, as always, never stirred. Lucy's heart wrenched almost unbearably within her at the sight of her sweet friend in his poor state. Why wouldn't he wake up? Why wouldn't he respond to them?

It was so unlike Tumnus to leave them, even for a moment. Surely he must know how much he was needed here.

"Where are you, Tumnus?" Lucy found herself asking aloud.

He was right there, yet he seemed so far away. His heart still beat, his lungs still breathed in life, yet he might as well be dead.

Was this how it was going to be from now on? Would Tumnus be forever lost in a deep, oblivious sleep? Such a thought was too dreadful to think about.

Terence wouldn't be the only one utterly devastated if Tumnus never came back.

Lucy also felt a very special connection with the faun. She had known him long before Terence came around; he was the first friend she'd made when she set foot in Narnia. Lucy remembered the day they met, at Lantern Waste, like it was yesterday. She remembered how she and Tumnus screamed in surprise and fright at the sight of each other, and how they'd both hid themselves. She remembered being in awe at his appearance, and how Tumnus seemed in just as much awe of her, if not more. She remembered teaching Tumnus how to shake hands, how he took the expression literally and "shook" her whole arm from side to side. The memory made the girl smile, but it also brought on a sharp sting of tears.

"You've got to get better, Tumnus," she entreated him. "You've just _got _to."

She groped for his unmoving hand, which she pressed fervently to her cheek and kissed a number of times while the barrier broke and the tears proceeded to flow.

"I love you, Tumnus," she could barely whisper, due to the thickness of the emotion that clogged her throat. "I love you…I love you so very much."

* * *

Terence went out into the royal gardens to be alone.

The young man felt the need to pray, and he didn't want anyone else hovering over him while he did so. Lucy had recommended praying for Tumnus, and Terence decided to take the girl's advice.

He needed some spiritual guidance, anyhow.

There was a good spot in the shade of one of the lime trees, flanked on one side by dense shrubbery. So Terence headed for that spot.

Once he was there, once he was sure that nobody lurked about, he settled quietly onto his knees in the tall grass. With his hands clasped fervently in front of him, he closed his eyes, dipped his head very low, and began.

"Dear God," he supplicated, hoping God was really there and could hear him from that spot, "my brother Tumnus has been gravely injured. We're doing all we can in our power to care for him, but it's no use. He never moves, or responds to us in any way. I don't know what more I can do. Please, Lord, if it is at all possible, if it is in accordance with Your will, bring him back to us. Spare his life. Don't let him suffer the consequences of my foolish actions."

The young man's voice caught, and he felt his eyes grow wet once more. There was a painful sharpness in his throat, like a barbed hook setting in. His whole frame began to tremble.

Bending down further, he prayed more earnestly while the pain built up steadily. "Forgive me for what I've done, Lord," he said in a broken voice. "I shouldn't have been so careless. I truly never meant Tumnus any harm, yet I've brought harm upon him all the same. I cannot live with what I have done. Please forgive me, and let Tumnus be all right. Have mercy on him. Let him live. Take me, if You must…but I beg You, with all that is in my heart and soul, _let him live._"

The tears were already flowing by the end of his prayer. Rather than return to the castle, Terence simply placed his anguished face into his hands and allowed himself to weep freely.


	7. Chapter 7

**THROUGH THE VOID**

_Hello, friends. Did you miss me? I know I've missed you. I've kept it pretty low-key around here these last few weeks; I was dedicating more time to my novel and other projects. That, and I couldn't think of what to add on to my fan stories. _

_ But I'm back, with a fresh chapter for you to feast your eyes on. It feels wonderful to finally get back to this particular story. Enjoy, mates!  
_

* * *

**Characters (except Terence) © C.S. Lewis and Disney/Walden Media**

**Terence and Story © unicorn-skydancer08 **

_**All rights reserved. **_

* * *

**CHAPTER 7  
**

It was at that same time when Edmund ventured into Tumnus's chamber, with Oreius not far behind. The two had been walking quietly together when Oreius, with his quick, sensitive ears, caught the sound of Lucy's crying.

When they set foot through the door and saw Lucy for themselves, both stood still for a moment, and Edmund said in a hushed voice, "Oh, my…"

Lucy was bent over Tumnus, clinging to him as if for dear life. Her head rested on the faun's chest, and she was weeping as if her heart were broken into a thousand pieces. Edmund was stunned at the sight, as was Oreius. It wasn't so much the fact that Lucy was crying over Tumnus, as it was the intensity of her crying. It was quite unsettling to see the girl in such a state; up till now, Lucy had remained remarkably strong, and she was normally not one to break down and bawl in such a manner.

Edmund, naturally, was the first to move forward. Taking his sister gently by the shoulders, he tried to lift her up, but Lucy refused to budge.

He tried again, but that only resulted in her tightening her grip on Tumnus even more, were such a thing possible. It was a wonder her fierce grasp alone did not rouse Tumnus, if he ever felt it, let alone her violent sobbing.

"Lucy," said Edmund softly, to get her attention.

Even then, it was another minute or so before Lucy was able to get some hold of herself.

When she finally sat up properly, when she at last lifted her red, tear-streaked face, Edmund was once again bowled over. He had never seen his sister this traumatized, not even when their father was sent away to fight in the war.

"Are you all right, Lu?" he asked solicitously.

A subdued whimper was the only answer he got. Then, quite impulsively, Lucy threw herself against her brother's chest, very nearly knocking them both off the bed. Edmund gave an involuntary grunt at the unexpected impact, but in a moment his arms slid gently around Lucy's quaking frame. "There, now," he whispered into her ear, stroking her hair, trying to soothe her as best he could.

It seemed almost ironic that he was doing this, considering he'd used to be the main source of Lucy's tears when they were kids.

Lucy said nothing, only clung steadfastly to her brother, holding him as if she tottered on the edge of a dark, bottomless abyss.

After a while, Edmund helped her to her feet, beckoning, "Come on, Lu. I think you could use a nice cup of hot chocolate right about now."

"You two go on ahead," Oreius said quietly. "I'll stay with Tumnus."

Hot chocolate was the last thing on Lucy's mind, but she let Edmund lead her away, with one arm enfolding her shoulders, though she kept glancing tearfully back at Tumnus.

When the two young royals had gone, Oreius settled to the floor beside Tumnus, tucking his long, powerful legs in neatly.

He never said anything, but he gazed intently at the faun for a long time. At one point, in a rare display of affection, he placed his big, brown, callused hand alongside Tumnus's face, brushing his thumb ever so lightly across his cheek. He'd read somewhere that it was good for those who were cataleptic to be touched and caressed, even if they couldn't respond. He didn't know whether to believe it, but it did feel good to him.

_Be strong, Tumnus, _he prayed inwardly. _Pull through. Please pull through. _

As a seasoned soldier, death held no surprises for him. On the battlefield, he had seen many creatures, both comrades and foes, die in the most unimaginable manner. As much as it grieved his heart, he had learned to accept it, for such was the way of war; and the thought that the deaths would not be in vain and that his fallen comrades would rest in peace in Aslan's Country beyond the sea helped to mitigate the loss.

Yet this was different. The idea of losing Tumnus in this manner made Oreius's heart truly sick.

He had not been exaggerating when he'd told Terence earlier that Tumnus was like a son to him. Notwithstanding the vast difference in their species, the faun was very dear to him.

Tumnus was all Oreius had left of his old, beloved friend, but he was also special in his own way.

Oreius had not been close to many people in his life, and for those who had managed to find their way to his heart, he held fast to them—and losing them caused him deeper pain than any wound he could receive in battle.

* * *

"Terence?"

Terence, who was sitting alone on one of the rolling lawns of Cair Paravel, watching the distant mountains as the sun sank progressively lower behind them, turned at the sound of Susan's voice.

"Susan? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," the Gentle Queen replied as she sauntered over to him. When Terence said nothing, Susan continued, "You look like you could use some company. Mind if I sit with you?"

Terence sighed, but only said, "If you must."

So Susan settled next to him on the cool grass, spreading out the voluminous skirt of her wine-colored gown as she did so.

Terence could tell the girl was blossoming into a beautiful young woman. It wouldn't surprise him in the least if so many men swarmed in on her that she would have to beat them off with a stick. Susan also took note of Terence's handsome features, of his intensely blue eyes, which had a way of being charming and mystifying at the same time—though at the moment, they were darkened with stormclouds of grief.

"Do you feel all right, Terence?" It was an absurd question, yet Susan felt the need to ask it anyway.

"How do you suppose I feel?" he murmured back, avoiding her gaze.

"Tumnus _is_ in a bad way," Susan admitted, which only made Terence's already drooped shoulders sag even lower. She added gently, "But it will all turn out right in the end. You'll see."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I'm not," she said simply, causing Terence to look at her in bewilderment. "I just do my best to focus on the silver lining in these situations."

Terence shook his head. "You have more faith than I do, Susan."

"If you don't have faith, what else is left but despair?"

"What else is left for me besides despair, after what I've done?" Terence looked sadder than Susan had ever seen him look. While he didn't weep, there was a definite crack in his voice as he continued, "How can you and everyone else in the Cair have anything to do with me? I could have very well killed Tumnus, you know. Maybe I already have."

"You never meant for this to happen," said Susan softly, trying to console him. "How could we hate you for something you couldn't control?"

"But I had perfect control over the situation, Susan. I _made _Tumnus come with me. I dragged him up that mountain with me. I might as well have pushed him off the edge of that cliff myself."

"But you had no intentions of hurting him. He wasn't hurt because of you. It just happened."

"But I led him into that danger zone in the first place," Terence countered.

"I do not blame you for this, Terence," said Susan, placing her hand on his shoulder. "Don't blame yourself."

"How can I not?" Terence asked her, looking and sounding almost desperate.

"Tumnus wouldn't blame you. He wouldn't hold you responsible."

Bowing his head to his chest, Terence muttered, "For some reason, I doubt that."

"If I know Tumnus," Susan said, "which I do, he loves you with all his heart. You two have been like brothers from the moment you met. In some ways, I think you understand each other better than I do with my own siblings."

Terence sighed, and lifted a single hand disconsolately to his forehead.

Scooting in a little closer to him, Susan whispered, "You have to forgive yourself, Terence."

"How can I? Especially if Tumnus dies?"

"He won't die. There are no guarantees that he will."

"But what if he does? How would I be able to live the rest of my life knowing my best and only friend's death was on my hands?"

"He'll make it," Susan insisted. "I know he will. And I tell you again, what has come about is not on your hands."

"Try telling that to my heart." Terence lifted his other hand to his face, so that his face was now completely hidden. "I don't know what more I can do," he groaned into his palms. "It's looking more and more hopeless all the time."

Susan hugged him. "Be his friend in your heart," she crooned into his ear. "Keep on loving him and praying for him. That's really all any of us can do."

Now Terence did begin to weep. Despite all the weeping he'd already done in the last two days, somehow he still had some tears left to shed. Susan just held the poor young man closer, allowing him to give release to his emotions.

When Terence had wept himself dry, he slowly looked up again and implored, "Forgive me, Susan."

"There is nothing to forgive, dear friend." Susan smiled sweetly, and he couldn't help smiling a little, too.

"You are always so kind to me," he said huskily, "even when I don't deserve it."

"You deserve everything that's good in this world, Terence," she assured him. "Don't ever doubt that."


	8. Chapter 8

**THROUGH THE VOID**

_At last, the moment you (and I) have been waiting for! This is not the end of the story, but it's definitely the climax. I think Tumnus has been left out cold long enough, and that Terence has wallowed in more than enough guilt._

_I expect there will be at least one more chapter after this before we're done. Given how long I've worked on this (nearly two years!), all I can say is it's about time.  
_

* * *

**Characters (except Terence) © C.S. Lewis and Disney/Walden Media**

**Terence and Story © unicorn-skydancer08 **

_**All rights reserved. **_

* * *

**CHAPTER 8  
**

The night passed uneventfully. In the two long days that followed, Tumnus continued to lie somewhere between life and death. All that time, Terence prayed with all his heart and soul for his mate to live. He prayed as he had never prayed before; more than once, Lucy and the others joined him. Though they tried to have faith, it was becoming increasingly harder as time dragged on and Tumnus still didn't move or speak, or open his eyes.

On the fifth day following the accident, Terence had all but given up hope.

Nothing had changed, as far as the youth could tell, and nothing would ever change. There was nothing more he could do, nothing left to believe in.

Tumnus was surely as good as gone.

As Terence maintained his usual bedside vigil, while one hand covered Tumnus's, he used his free hand to cover his face, trying vainly to hide the tears as they began to fall.

"Oh, Tumnus," he despaired. "Oh, my poor friend…my dear brother. This is my rightful punishment for putting him through this. I don't deserve to be forgiven. I don't deserve to have him back."

Yet even as the youth was succumbing to the black, engulfing waves of his despair, Tumnus—for the first time in five days—shifted ever so slightly in the bed. The softest of moans escaped the faun's lips.

Like one rising from sleep, or from the inmost depths of the sea, the faun was at long last rising from the world of oblivion, back to the world of the living.

Slowly, very slowly, his eyelids flitted open. At first, his vision was considerably blurred, and even as everything began to sharpen into focus, it took Tumnus another minute to recognize his surroundings. What was he doing in bed? How long had he been here? How did he even get here to begin with? Now that Tumnus was beginning to think more clearly, at least a thousand questions flooded his mind, like water that had found a hole in a dam.

However, those questions were forestalled when Tumnus glanced to one side and discovered Terence sitting next to him, weeping like a lost soul. Terence, who still held his hand over his eyes, took no notice of the faun.

The sight and the sounds of the young man's grieving moved Tumnus to no small degree.

What in the name of Narnia could have caused his friend this much pain? Was he mourning over Tumnus? The more Tumnus thought about it, the more he realized that had to indeed be the case.

Giving Terence's other hand a squeeze, Tumnus said, "Terence." His voice sounded low and raspy, almost unfamiliar to his own ears. Whether Terence didn't hear him right away, he couldn't tell, for it was a long moment before Terence looked up. Once again, Tumnus was stunned at how red and wet his mate's eyes were, how ghostly pale his face was. But it was the sheer, raw emotion in the boy's face that truly rattled him.

At the sight of Tumnus, Terence gave a great gasp and immediately shrank back from the bed, as if the faun were some terrifying specter.

"Terence?" Tumnus repeated worriedly. "What is it? Are you…are you all right?"

At first, Terence couldn't move, couldn't speak; indeed, his very heart seemed to have stopped. Scarcely trusting his voice, he gasped, "_Tumnus?_"

"What happened, mate?" Tumnus solicited. "You look positively terrible."

"Tumnus…is it really you?"

"Of course, it's me. Who else would it be?"

Tentatively, as if to make sure this was no trick or illusion, Terence touched the faun's face, feeling his warm skin and bristly stubble.

When he was convinced in the end that it truly was his old mate, that he had revived at last, his composure fell to pieces. "Oh, _Tumnus!_" The name was like a fulfilled prayer on his lips.

Before Tumnus had a chance to react, Terence had locked him into his arms. Laughing and sobbing by turns, the boy hugged his beloved faun as tightly as he could without crushing him, or choking him to death. Unable to help himself, Tumnus began to cry as well. While he didn't bawl like Terence, tears slid down his own cheeks, without restraint. Almost involuntarily, his own arms snaked around Terence and clung to him in return.

Part of Terence wondered if this was all merely a dream, but his heart knew the truth. "Oh, dear heaven above, Tumnus…I was so sure I'd lost you," he sobbed.

"Lose me?" Tumnus repeated incredulously. "What are you talking about?"

Drawing back ever so slightly from the embrace, Terence asked him, "You don't remember what had happened?"

Tumnus didn't, at least not right away. But gradually, bit by bit, the details of that fateful day on the mountain trickled back into memory. He recalled that horrible fall, and just thinking about it made him shudder.

How he had survived, he had no idea.

"How long have I been…like this?" he dared to ask Terence.

"Five days."

Tumnus stared at his mate, certain that he must be joking. When Terence proved to be dead serious, the faun quirked his leaf-shaped ears in disbelief. "Five _days?_ You mean to say I've been on this bed, dead to the world, for five _days?_"

Terence nodded gravely.

"We were so worried for you," he said, the words catching in his throat. "We feared that you might not make it. You cannot even begin to imagine what these last five days have been like for all of us, especially for me."

Tears began to flow afresh as he took Tumnus's hand and kissed it fervently before pressing it against his own forehead. "Oh, Tumnus," he begged, "forgive me. Oh, please, _please_ forgive me. I never wanted you to get hurt. I could never have borne it if you…if you…" He choked up and couldn't finish, but Tumnus got the message. For just a moment, the faun was tempted to chastise the young man for his irresponsibility, but the temptation quickly shattered as he took in how distressed and guilt-ridden Terence truly was. He doubted there was anything he could say to Terence that had not already been said, anything that would make any difference.

He couldn't make Terence feel any worse than he felt right now.

These days must have been genuine hell for the boy, and to recriminate him now would be just plain cruel.

So instead, Tumnus gathered Terence gently into his arms, holding him and soothing him the way a mother soothed her child.

Terence came willingly, and he pleaded tearfully with Tumnus over and over to forgive him, even after Tumnus whispered into his ear, "I forgive you, Terence." The faun had to repeat this statement at least thirty times before Terence even started to calm down. Even then, Terence didn't let Tumnus go, nor did he want Tumnus to let go. "It's all right," Tumnus whispered as he stroked him and kissed him. "I promise, it's all right."

Between his sobs, Terence managed to say, "Thank God, you're alive. I love you, Tumnus…I love you so much."

"I love you, too, mate."

When Edmund and Lucy came by a little later, they stopped simultaneously in their tracks at the sight of Terence and Tumnus wrapped in one another's arms. I leave you to imagine the scene that followed when the young king and queen saw for themselves that their dear friend had awoken at last. Lucy ended up being the first to race to the bed, and she all but pounced on Tumnus and flung her arms about his neck, as far as they would go. Tumnus was startled at first, but in a moment, his arms gently enfolded the girl. Lucy was crying too hard to really say anything; the feel of Tumnus's arms holding her was simply too wonderful. In another moment, Edmund joined them. He, too, was shedding tears, and Tumnus managed to reach one arm out to the boy. Soon, all four of them were caught up in a big tangle of limbs and tears; it was impossible to determine whose tears were whose.

Eventually, Oreius, Peter, Susan, Sir Giles, and all the others in the Cair received the glorious news.

Once again, the details will be left mainly to your own imagination, but there was a great outpouring of joy and relief, and you can bet many prayers were sent forth on the spot, this time to offer pure, simple thanks for this miracle.


	9. Chapter 9

**THROUGH THE VOID**

_After two long years of writer's block and hard work, I am proud to present the final chapter. This should be a nice respite from all the sorrow and fear the previous chapters dished out.  
_

_Enjoy yourselves, and as always, don't forget to leave a review or two. Thank you for your time and patience.  
_

* * *

**Characters (except Terence) © C.S. Lewis and Disney/Walden Media**

**Terence and Story © unicorn-skydancer08 **

_**All rights reserved. **_

* * *

**CHAPTER 9  
**

Even after Tumnus was awake, it was another day before he had the strength to get out of bed. The first time he stood up, he wobbled dangerously on his hooves and needed to lean on Terence. In time, the faun's clumsiness faded, and he managed to walk on his own, though Terence stayed close to his side, just in case. Later that same day, after they had eaten a hearty meal, Tumnus sat outside in the gardens with Terence, savoring the fresh air. Lucy and Edmund came to sit with them, and presently Oreius and Sir Giles joined them, too. Neither the centaur nor the fox said anything, but Sir Giles curled up at Tumnus's feet, and Oreius clasped the faun's shoulder gently, as if to make certain he was real.

"Are you sure you're all right, Tumnus?" Terence asked, as he had a thousand times since the faun came around.

Tumnus gave out a little weary sigh. "_Yes_, Terence," he said, "I assure you, I am very much all right. How many times must I tell you that?"

"Take it easy on him, Tumnus," said Edmund. "It's been a long, rough week for him, as well as the rest of us."

"You're lucky you're alive, you know," Oreius said.

A shiver rippled along Tumnus's spine. Even though he knew nothing of what took place during his blackout, he recalled all too clearly the sheer terror of falling from the cliff. How he had survived that fall to begin with, he had no idea.

"I'm sorry, Tumnus," said Terence, for the umpteenth time. "I'm so sorry I put you through this."

"It's all right, Terence…" Tumnus began to say, but the young man wasn't finished.

"No, it's not all right," he said in a trembling voice, his eyes welling up. "I should have listened to you before we ever set foot on that mountain. I shouldn't have been so flippant about your advice. My carelessness could have cost you your life." He shook his head miserably. "I'm such a horrible friend…possibly the worst excuse for a friend there is."

One look at the boy's face told Tumnus he was dead serious about what he was saying.

Any anger or annoyance Tumnus had felt toward him before was swept away in a tide of compassion and tenderness; he put himself in Terence's place and knew he would have been distraught had Terence been hurt instead of him.

"Forgive me," Terence pleaded once more, a solitary tear making its diamond trail down his cheek.

Reaching over, Tumnus gently brushed the tear away. Then, taking Terence's face in both hands, he made the youth look him in the eye and told him softly but seriously, "I forgive you, Terence. I forgive you with my whole heart."

Terence managed to smile just a little, the faintest glint of peace illuminating his teary eyes. He placed one of his own hands over Tumnus's, turned his head enough to kiss the inside of the palm. Later, when Tumnus withdrew his hands, Terence leaned in closer and hugged him for all he was worth. Tumnus readily squeezed him back.

With his forehead pressed to the faun's reassuringly warm shoulder, Terence said, "Believe me, mate, I would have traded places with you in a heartbeat if I could."

To this, Tumnus tightened his hold on the boy and said, "Don't ever say that, Terence. Don't you even _think_ it. I'd never let you take my place for the world."

"Come, come, you two," said Oreius, placing one hand on Terence and the other on Tumnus. "All that's in the past now." As they looked up at him, he went on, "Let's be happy that we're all here, that everything has turned out for the better."

"I'm in favor of that," Sir Giles said with a grin.

"So, what shall we do today?" Lucy asked, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Shall we take a little stroll down the beach?" Edmund suggested. "Maybe go for a swim in the Eastern Sea?"

"Actually," Terence said, with a sidelong glance at Tumnus, "I was thinking we could just stay here at the castle and enjoy a nice, quiet cup of tea."

Tumnus smiled. "Now that's an idea of yours that I accept wholeheartedly, mate."

**- THE END -**


End file.
